For another you

There is no room for you here.
Literally.
Disgusting - that is what you feel.
You peer into the mirror daily
and find only hate.
You pin up posters
of skeletal daffodils with hair
and ate leaves for weeks.

Still, you feel like a whale.

So you lead that stubby finger
into your mouth
and you retched till you're
blue in the face,
day in and out.
And for months,
you refused to stop, not
till you're small enough
to please their small
minds, which, by the way,
have once again, grown
smaller.

Elegy

Lifeless bones, sleep now, be quiet and hear

this rhapsody escaping through the pores

of parched skin. Sealed within this mere veneer

was once brilliance, now wrecked and void of force.

Her eyes, they poured forth floods of rectitude.

Now sunken, dulled with infinite ennui,

they're blind and reek of vulgar lassitude.

Perhaps darkness disdains veracity.

How well the rain traces her resting place.

The earth bears testament to her presence.

Those obstinate leaves cling to that pale face,

now found on flyers of missing persons -

the same paper used to silence her screams,

before he waved the axe and killed her dreams.